by Sarah Bailey
I placed my hand on his forearm to reassure him I was here even when he insisted on trying to push me away. The next thing I knew, he’d flinched back, pain etched across his features.
“Rhys…?”
“Don’t,” he whispered.
I didn’t allow him to run from me. Before he could object, I pulled up his school jumper and found several bruises across his wrist and up his arm.
“Who… who did this to you?” My voice was barely above a whisper so as not to alert anyone else who might be lurking nearby.
He tugged his arm away from me, hurriedly pulling his jumper back down. His dark eyes were full of heartache. The realisation he was likely being abused slammed into me like a million shards of ice hitting my chest.
“Who’s hurting you?”
He shook his head, clutching his arm to his chest and staring down at the desk. Nothing could prepare me for seeing it. The evidence of something worse than I could’ve ever imagined.
“I can’t.”
“You can, please, you can trust me.”
Who would I tell? If he needed me to keep it a secret, I would. I’d never betray him. I couldn’t.
“Stop asking, A, please. Just stop. Not here. Not now. I can’t tell you now.”
The pain in his voice made the ice shards in my chest dig deeper. I wanted so much to put my arms around him and take it all away. Keep him safe. But what could I do? I was a seven-year-old boy. Nothing I said or did would change his life for him.
“When?”
He dropped his arm and his hands shook in his lap. We couldn’t go back to before I’d seen the marks on his arms. The bruises. He couldn’t keep hiding the truth from me. He knew it. I knew it. It would only be a matter of time before he told me what was really going on at home. Why he kept telling me he had to look after his mum. And why he’d called his dad a dick.
The only logical conclusion I could draw was this had been his dad. It made me sick to my stomach to think anyone could hurt him let alone his own father.
“Tomorrow,” he whispered. “At yours… when no one else can hear us.”
He finally met my eyes. The promise in them had my heart slamming hard against my ribcage. Rhys wanted to open up. He wanted to trust me. I’d prove to him how worthy I could be of his trust. I wouldn’t let him down.
The teacher came into the room and started asking us to settle down. I turned towards the front of the room, but not before slipping my hand over his in his lap.
“A,” he breathed.
“I know. I’m here. I’ve got you,” I whispered. “I promise.”
Tomorrow I’d learn exactly how dark and difficult his life was. And I wasn’t sure I could prepare myself for the secrets he’d reveal. But whatever they were, I’d help him through it. I’d fight by his side forever.
That was the day I knew it wasn’t just some kind of stupid crush. No… I cared about Rhys far more than that. No matter how hard he fought against it, we had a connection. It ran deep in our veins and it couldn’t be undone. I’d be his sword and shield, just like the warriors in the books he liked. I’d go to war for him. Fight by his side. And I’d do it because he was the only person I could see myself next to for the rest of my life.
Is this what adults call falling in love? Because I’m pretty sure I love Rhys King more than life itself.
I didn’t care what it was called. All I knew was Rhys and I were meant to be even if he didn’t know it quite yet.
Chapter Seventeen
The weekend had been hell on earth for me. I’d debated going into school, but Mum said I had to even though she was confined to her bed again. And now I had inadvertently allowed Aaron to see some of the damage Graham King had inflicted on me. All because I’d tried to stop him from hurting Mum again.
I could still hear his shouting echoing in my ears and the awful things he’d said to the both of us. And the very worst part of all? He’d come back the next day, grovelling at Mum’s feet and begging for her forgiveness. It was never me he apologised to. Only her. He didn’t care how much he hurt me even though I was his son. His own flesh and blood.
I didn’t understand how she could keep forgiving him even after he hurt both of us. We’d be better off without him. He should leave Mum and go live with Maggie Polton since he spent enough time around her house anyway. But Mum said we couldn’t survive without him. I hated how she couldn’t see our lives were much worse with him around.
Aaron and I climbed the stairs in his house, making a beeline for his bedroom after Tamara brought us back after school. I’d promised him I’d reveal the truth today even though I really didn’t want to. What would Aaron even think anyway when he found out my dad was an abusive dick? Would he judge me like I did myself? Perhaps he’d understand why I hated myself so much.
He closed the bedroom door and popped our snacks on his desk after we’d waited downstairs for Tamara to make them so she wouldn’t interrupt us. I took a large gulp of my juice to settle my nerves before putting it down next to his. Aaron walked over to the window and stared out at the houses surrounding us.
“It was your dad, wasn’t it?”
I swallowed hard. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise he’d worked out that much. I had told him Graham King was a dick.
“Yes.”
“Why… why would he hurt you?”
“He hates me.”
Except the explanation wasn’t quite as simple as that. So I walked over and looked up at Aaron. His blue-grey eyes had darkened significantly. It was more than just a storm brewing in them. It was as if they were the raging sea, the swell rising, ready to smash ships against rocks and drown their occupants. I could barely breathe, my lungs constricting from the intensity I saw there. It wasn’t directed at me. No, Aaron’s ire was for my dad, but he didn’t know the full story.
“Why?” came his voice, all hard and full of repressed anger.
I took his hand, linking our fingers together even though I was scared of revealing the truth. Aaron made me feel safe in a way I’d never experienced before. His confident attitude had drawn me in and his insistence on not letting me run. Even if I had, he’d still be there, pushing me to open up to him.
He sucked in a breath, his eyes flicking down to our entwined fingers. Then he let it out, his fingers shaking with the effort. I didn’t understand his reaction, but I chose not to read into it too much.
“Come.”
I pulled him over to his bed and made him sit down next to me, keeping our fingers locked. Having his touch kept me grounded. I stared hard at his hand, wondering why he made me feel so peaceful and comforted.
“When Mum had me, there were complications… she suffered a stroke after I was born and it left her with permanent disabilities. Sometimes her speech is impaired and she has trouble with walking and movement. She has good days and bad ones. That’s why I have to look after her.”
“Rhys—”
I put my other hand up, stopping him from saying a word.
“You need to let me finish… please.”
I met his eyes, finding so much compassion in them, it made tears prick at the corners of my own. I blinked them back. Allowing myself to get emotional wasn’t something I could afford if I was going to tell him the truth. The whole sorry truth of my tragic and desolate life.
“Graham… my dad… is her full-time carer. At least, he’s supposed to be. He spends more time at the pub with his friends or at Maggie Polton’s, two doors down from us. He expects me to take care of Mum as he blames me for the way she is. Because having me caused her to have a stroke. He blames me for everything. That’s why he hates me, A, but it’s worse than that.”
My hands shook as I stared into Aaron’s eyes and saw the abject horror in them. I wasn’t sure if it was directed at me or about my dad. Didn’t matter. I had to press on. I’d promised him an explanation.
“I don’t remember when exactly he started hitting Mum. I just
remember the screaming matches, the slamming doors and the stamping of feet. I remember him coming back from the pub, drunk and getting into arguments with her over me. Every time something went wrong, it was always my fault because I’d ruined Mum’s life by being born. Her condition started worsening every time they had a fight and when I saw the bruises he left on her, I realised what was happening.”
It killed me on the inside. Knowing my dad took out his anger at me on her. His anger at the world for having landed him with a son who’d ruined his wife’s life.
“The first time he hurt me, I’d tried to stop him from punching Mum in the face. He backhanded me, then he gripped my arm so hard and shook me, it left bruises for days afterwards. He screamed in my face, swore at me and called me worthless. He said he wished I’d never been born. That it was my fault he has to… fuck other women. All I could smell was the alcohol on his breath. It makes me sick every time.”
I didn’t like using bad words as Mum told me not to copy him, but I knew what the word fuck meant. It didn’t take a genius to realise he had sex with Maggie Polton because Mum couldn’t give him that any longer. Nor that their fights had got worse after Aunt Bibi killed herself. A part of me didn’t want to remember how Graham used to look at her with that disgusting leer in his eyes. So I knew why Aunt Bibi ended it even if Mum had told me something different. I knew why because Aunt Bibi and Mum had looked a lot alike.
“He only hurts me when I try to save Mum from him. So she told me I had to stay in my room. She made me promise, but I couldn’t on Saturday. He was shouting so loud, I heard the neighbours banging on the walls telling them to shut up. I went downstairs and found him with his hands wrapped around Mum’s throat. I threw myself at his back and hit him until he let go. He grabbed my arms and threw me across the room. Then he hit me in the stomach again and again until I was sobbing and couldn’t breathe properly. That’s when Mum pulled him off and kicked him out of the house.”
Gingerly, I pulled up my school jumper and shirt with my free hand, showing Aaron the bruises across my skin. They’d turned a dark purple and were yellowing around the outside. The agony in Aaron’s eyes damn near broke me, but I pressed on.
“He came home the next day grovelling like he always does. Mum took him back like she always does. She can’t get out of bed at the moment. He’s been taking care of her, but it won’t last. It never does. They’ll get into another fight and it’ll happen all over again. I wish she’d leave him. He does nothing but hurt us. Mum keeps saying we can’t survive without him. I don’t believe that. If he wasn’t in our lives, then Mum wouldn’t have so many bad days. She wouldn’t have to struggle and be in pain. Her medication would work properly. Everything would be better if Graham left us. But she doesn’t see that…” I faltered, swallowing down the lump in my throat. “She says she loves him, but I don’t. I hate him… but most of all… I hate myself because I can’t protect her. I caused all of this by just existing.”
I looked away from Aaron, pulling my jumper back down and staring at our hands. The simple fact he’d not let go made my heart thump violently in my chest. I didn’t want to meet his eyes again. Whilst I felt relief at unburdening myself to him, fear also gripped me at what he’d think. What he’d say to everything I’d told him. He lived such a privileged life with his rich parents, a big house and could never want for anything. Here was me, living on a council estate where you could get stabbed for looking at someone the wrong way with an abusive dad and a disabled mother. Aaron and I came from completely different worlds. Would he still stand by me now he knew the real extent of my tragic life?
Except Aaron didn’t say a word, he let go of my hand and edged closer before gently wrapping his arms around me. I sat there for a long moment, unsure of how to take him hugging me.
“A?” I whispered.
His arms around me tightened as he buried his face against my neck. I felt his breath fluttering over my skin, making it prickle.
“It’s not your fault.”
I almost stiffened.
“What isn’t?”
“Any of it. Your dad is wrong. He shouldn’t hurt you or your mum. You did nothing wrong, Rhys. Nothing at all. You are so special and I won’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.”
My heart couldn’t take his words. Those tears which I didn’t want pricking at my eyes started falling. They dripped down my cheeks, falling off my chin and landing in his blonde hair. I’m not sure Aaron cared since he didn’t pull away. His hand stroked up and down my back in a soothing motion. It made me choke out a sob. I’d had no one to talk to about this for so long. Aaron had come along, smashed through all my defences and shown me how much I needed him in my life. How much I needed… no… craved his friendship, his kindness, his care.
When he finally pulled back, he reached up and wiped away my tears with his thumbs before his hands circled my face. He leant towards me and rested his forehead against mine. I swallowed hard, my lungs constricting in my chest at his closeness.
“I made you a promise that I’d never leave you. I’m going to make you another one. I promise to listen, to be here and to care for you for as long as we live. I’ll never let you go, Rhys. Never.”
“Never?” I echoed.
“Never ever.”
All I could see was his irises glinting at me, the blue-grey of his eyes so pronounced this close up. It struck me how beautiful Aaron was inside and out. It was really no wonder half the girls in our class swooned over him. They didn’t get to see this side of him though. The complete openness of his expression. They didn’t get to see him laugh so hard, he snorted and choked on his own breath. I made him laugh that much. Only me. And it made me feel like I was on top of the world.
A part of me felt incredibly possessive over Aaron. I wanted those things to be mine and mine alone. I didn’t want anyone else to see him like this. The very thought of it loosened my tongue and made me confess something I’d only just realised as I said it.
“You’re my best friend, Aaron. I know you’re my only friend, but you’re still the best.”
He opened his mouth and closed it again, his eyes growing so soft, I almost couldn’t take it. Such a contrast to how angry he’d been earlier.
“You’re my best friend too, Rhys.”
The moment the words left his lips, it cemented something so deep inside me, I would be hard-pressed to tear it out. Aaron meant more to me than any other person ever had. He’d given me something no one else could. A place free from judgement or excuses. He let me tell my story without once looking at me like I was damaged or wrong. He accepted me for the way I was. Not even Mum did that sometimes.
My hand left my lap and curled around his face, mirroring the way he held mine.
“Thank you for understanding. You have no idea how much that means to me. I need… I need you, A. You’re like the light in my darkness. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Aaron sucked in a breath, his eyes growing wider and flicking down to my hand. He stared for a long moment before his eyes turned back to me. He didn’t meet my eyes, instead, their sole focus was on my mouth as if he couldn’t believe the words which had come out of it.
“I’m right here,” he whispered. “You have me. Never forget that.”
I don’t know why, but something in his voice told me there was so much more to his words than I could comprehend or even begin to understand. The only thing which mattered was Aaron hadn’t run from me. He’d stayed despite knowing how messed up my life was.
I dropped my hand from his face before pulling his from mine. I noticed the slight disappointment in his eyes before I pressed forward and leant my head against his shoulder, wrapping my arms around his back.
That was the day our bond with each other became a permanent fixture in our lives. Nothing could change us. Nothing would stand in our way. Not whilst we had each other.
I vowed to myself to be stronger. To withstand the agony and pain
my dad inflicted on my mum and me. Because I knew Aaron would be there for me if and when I fell apart. He’d put me back together piece by piece just by being him.
Aaron was my saviour.
And my downfall.
Part II
infatuate
verb, in·fat·u·at·ed, in·fat·u·at·ing.
to inspire or possess with a foolish or unreasoning passion, as of love.
Chapter Eighteen
Ten Years Later
Rhys sat out with his head tipped up towards the sun, basking in the warmth as his chest rose and fell with each breath. A bead of sweat gathered on his upper lip, tempting me to lick it off him. My eyes feasted on the boy in front of me and he had absolutely no idea. His eyes were closed, his posture completely relaxed. He was only like this with me. Completely open and unashamed in his own skin. And fuck, it was just about the hottest sight imaginable.
Rhys had morphed from a skinny seven-year-old into a well-defined, tall and incredibly handsome seventeen-year-old. Growing his hair out so it sat in beautiful dark waves whilst still keeping the back and sides cut close to his head. And don’t even get me started on the fact he was currently shirtless. It was like having every wet dream I’d ever had rolled into one watching him bathe in the rays of the sun as the two of us sat in the park away from the families with their picnics and teenagers hanging out smoking and drinking on the benches.
The good weather had only made his tanned skin darker. I looked pasty next to him even though I’d got a slight tan. It was the beginning of the summer holidays. Six weeks until we had to go back to reality and I hated the thought of it. Going back to school meant not seeing Rhys every day. As close as we’d grown over the past ten years, when it came to us starting at secondary school, my parents had decided to send me somewhere closer to our house. It meant Rhys and I had been separated. Something I hated with a passion. I knew it bothered him too, but perhaps not quite as much as me.